Sundown

hand

This is what having the world at one's feet must feel like. The thunderous applause from the public was all he could hear for a while till it rang through the air- the sound of the war horn.

The soldiers from the first post of the castle blew the horn loud and clear and the applause faded away under its raucous blaring. Claps turned into screams and it only meant one thing- the enemy was here.

"Usher the women and children into the castle basements!" Timothee commanded the officials around him and the men got to work as the weakest lot were swiftly escorted to safety.

He handed Emm his crown and cloak to keep in his chamber and rushed to the armory to get dressed in chain, mail and armor. His destrier was neighing softly as a serving boy brought the huge, rugged animal, unable to control its direction. Pegasus had always listened to no one but him and proving thus, the horse quieted as soon as Timothee mounted it.

"They're still at the sea, Your Grace. Our fleet is doing its best to hold them off." The commander spoke when Timothee rode out into the practice grounds where a portion of his archers, ready to go up to the battlements in the castle stood.

Your Grace. He was going to have to get used to hearing it no matter how strange it sounded now. He had been King for mere minutes and he was already having to fight a battle. Battles did not scare him, the aftermath did.

"Has my note of peace been sent to the other party's lead? I would always wish to fight one-on-one if they agree, before I let the men of my kingdom spill their blood."

"We have just dispatched a boat with your messenger. He should reach there in a couple of hours." The commander replied.

"Have all the Towers around the island been secured? The Holy Tower?"

'Saoirse? Is she safe?' was what he had wanted to ask but he knew he must not.

"Troops have been sent there, Your Grace. The whole island will be doubly secured within an hour."

When his father walked into the ground, his armor and plate in place, Timothee realised for the first time just how old he had really grown. His once spotless dark hair were now tangled with grey and the wrinkles on his skin were apparent when he lifted his helm and visor.

"Are you sure you want to fight?" Timothee asked.

"Why not?"

"As long as I stand ground, you shouldn't have to."

"As long as I have a wife and children to fight for, I should." His father replied, smiling weakly at him and together they led the garrison out of the grounds.

In the hours that they waited for the messenger to return, Timothee made sure everything was in place in case their fleet got defeated and the enemy infiltrated the land. There was no way he was going to risk Elmcaster and its people.

"I need to get to the King right now!" He heard a woman yelling from outside the chamber him and his ministers were currently in, planning out the course of their movements through the battle.

"Tell the guards to let her in." He told Hawklin and soon enough, a middle aged, plump woman, dressed in faded light wool stumbled in, her forehead bleeding.

"Your Grace... I..." She panted but her throat was so dry from all the running that she threw up a cough fit.

Timothee signalled the serving girls in the room to fetch her some water and when she had stabilised, he registered the utter horror on her face.

"They're here. They're coming in boats and they're plundering the villages! I rode here as soon as I saw them." She managed to let out, tears freely flowing down her cheeks.

"Which end are you coming from?" The commander asked.

"The South-East."

"Your Grace we have fewer defence lines on that end." The commander spoke.

"And why the fuck is that?" Timothee demanded, fury boiling inside his gut.

"We... We thought they wouldn't try to invade that part because of the jungles."

Timothee wanted to fling him off of a balcony for saying that. How could these heavily experienced men be so stupid?

"Just because they're jungles doesn't mean they can't be crossed." Ansel said through gritted teeth and Timothee was glad he had spoken his mind but in gentler words.

"Get Pegasus out, I'm riding there with a hundred men." Timothee announced and before he could storm out of the chamber, the messenger they had sent made an appearance.

"What did they say?" Hawklin demanded.

The messenger lifted up his arm and Timothee clenched his teeth when he saw that the messenger's hand from the wrist up had been cut off.

If they wanted war, Timothee was going to make it certain that this was the last any of them ever fought.

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a/n:

*stop the fucking charade!*

lol, how do you like intimidating Timmy?

for me? sexy as fuck.